The Scales of Justice

Wairarapa Age, Volume XXX, Issue 8543, 25 September 1907, Page 2

The Scales of Justice

CHAPTER XXXVlL—Continued. "But I have not the remotest idea where it is," Gilbert protested. , "That is a small matter. You see the way to the new road? Go along after turning to the right until you come to a fence of white posts. That is the path to the farm. There is a sunk fence in front of you, and facing the fence is the room where the Delamcres are. If their light is out, pome back to me at once. If the light is burning, you must give the call of the barn-owl twice. I can easily teach you to imitate the cry of the bird. Now try." Gilbert tried until he had become perfect. He was curious and asked questions. But Marston would have none of them. There was no time for long explanations, he said. "Go off at once, and do as 1 tell 'you," he said. "If all goes right, and the Delameres come out to see who is calling, you are to say that everything is progressing.splendidly, and also you are to ask for the parcel. Bring the packet back here. I shall not be in the house; but you can best find your way to the path lead- - ing. from Anna's cottage to the Moat Hous'e from a landmark like this. By the clump of big yews there I shall be , waiting for you. But once you are in the road, tread lightly. Make your way as carefully as if you had only just escaped from Greystone ai.d the warders were after you." "Then it is no use to ask for an ex-

olanation?" said Gilbert. "Not the least. My dear sir, time is of the utmost importance. 1 would go to Delamere myself and leave you 1 here, but you get along so much faster than me. And if that pain of mine comes on lam done. But one thing I- can promise you—that you will be'a free manto do as you please before the week is out." Gilbert thrilied,, Almost unconsciously his head was raised. Marston spoke in the tone of a man who was sure of his ground. Gilbert snatched up his cap and coat and made for the door, it was good to feel that things were moving. • "I need no further inducement," he said. "I'll restrain my curiosity. But it is hard." He said no more and vanished. As he walked along, Gilbert felt nothing of the darkness; his heart was full of eager gladness. 'He had suffered so unjustly that he had begun to feel hardened; he had loathed the hiding from men, the inability to come out and look the world in the. face. And now all the hardness was falling from him, and his heart felt as soft as that of a little child. It only seemed a minute or two before he was past the white path and close to the edge of the sunk fence that cut off the house from the fields. Gilbert had walked a whole mile without in the least being aware of the fact. His mind was full of Winifred and what he 'was going to do for her when he could come forward and claim her. But he had to put this kind of thir.g out of his mind altogether. With a keen sense of satisfaction he noticed that the lamp was burning as Marston had felt sure it would be. Everything was going right now; there was going to be no hitch in the programme. The melancholy cry of the barn-owl, floated out thrice on the still heavy air. Then, to his great satisfaction, he saw a window thrown ■„ up and a figure emerge that way, and come ,down to the edge of the sunk

fence. "Is that Marston?" a cautious voice asked, "or a messenger of his?" "A mes&enger of his," Gilbert replied. "Is that Mr David Delamere?" * "Oh, yes, Mr David Delamere right enough. And you are Mr Gifc bert Doyle. I" never forget a voice if I have ever heard it. You have a message for ;:ie?" "Yes; from Marston. I understand tha*: the messaere comes in the first instance from Miss Cameron. Maratcnr efused to discuss it with me, but I understand that it has a most important bearing upon my future: I was to say that the plot had been a perfect success." Gilbert now heard the listener give vent to a dry chuckle. Then somebody else laughed. It was the other Delamere who has followed his brother. "If that is so, you are as good as free," Delamere said. "The plot is a perfect success —eh? Did you hear if Beard has left the house?" "Oh, yes! I was specially to tell you that. Marston said you would understand the meaning of it. He left the house as soon as he had finished his dinner. Went out in a quiet kind of way, you were to understand, as if he did not want to be

seen. "Modest man," Delamere chuckied again, in the same dry way. "I quite understand. And so Marston sent you here for the packet." "That is mostly what I came for." Again the chuckle of satisfaction "from the far side of the fence. Then one- of the Delameres vanished through the cren'window, only to return with a packet in his hand. This he conveyt J to Gilbert across the fence. "Nnw go back to Marston at once," he commanded. "We have our part to play. Stephen, get the motor out: we are going on one of our late excursions—we have discovered that we are out of cigars, ar.d we journey to Longtown to fetch them—if we don't go in a contrary direction; but any excuse will do " "And that is all you have to tell me?" Gilbert said. Perhaps he was a lit : :le disappointed; perhaps he had expected to glean fresh information here. "As to my position " "Your position could not be better," Delamere interrupted. "You ' «an leave all that to us. On the j whole, it i& just as well that you

By FRED Iff. WHITE,

[Published By Special Arrangement.] [All. Eights Reserved.] *

should not know too much at this stage. Now, be off as fast as your legs will carry you." It was hopeless to wait for more, and Gilbert' disappeared in die darkness. He wondered, in a vague kind of way, what were the contents of the package. He would have been more than astonished if he had only known the truth on that score. But he had to put curiosity out of. his mind, His great task now was to get back to Marston as soon as pus-, sible. The cottage, was reached at length, but, as Marston had said, he Was not there. It was easy now to find the path leading from old Anna's cottage, to the Moat House, and Gilbert struck it without any trouble. Mindful of Marston's caution, he crept along as if he were escaping from the grey gaol. Not a leaf crackled under his feet till he reached the great clump of yews. He waited there a little time; he began to grow impatient. Something was moving close by him—something that sounded like a fox prowling about in search of rabbits. It was very still and black there, and the silence of it began to get on Gilbert's nerves. The rustling moved at his feet, and a hand touched him. He started, but said nothing. "Good man!" a voice whispered. "You have plenty of courage. It's Marston. I have been having a rare hunt after our man, and have literI ally escaped from "the oak spinney here, and very nearly ran on» to his feet now. Well?" The last word was asked with some impatience. Gilbert produced the packet. "I should say that it is exceedingly well," he said "I managed to reach the farmhouse all right, and the Delameres were at hyme. They came out at my signal, and gave me the packet. There it is'."

Marston clutched at the paper:; eagerly. Evidently he attached the greatest importance to Ihem. He plunged into a little thicket, where he cautiously struck a match, .and for a few minutes fairly gloated over his treasures. *

"This is quite satisfactory," he said, as he extinguished the match. "Now that we have got our bait we will proceed to catch our fox, who is not far off. Stayhere.'" Marston's proceeding was, to say the least of it, curious. He crept to the pathway, and laid the packet of papers in the centre of the grass. After that he returned to the shadow of the thicket and began to watch. A quarter of an hour passed before ■anything happened. Then there was a sound as if somebody was coming along the path. v It was possible to catch the heavy tread of a man in the moss; a little twig snapped here and there. Presently Gilbert became aware of the glimmer of a lantern. Below the lantern was a large, heavy face. Gilbert was past all surprise by now; otherwise he would have been astonished to recognise Bernard Btard. He pushed his lantern from side to side; he was muttering to himself as he went by. Something like an execration came from Marston as Beard passed out of sight. • .

"Missed!" he said; "missed that time. But he must come back again. How it was he didn't see the packet fairly beats me." "Do you want Beard to get it? 2 ' Gilbert asked, with a puzzled expression. "Then why not- —"

"Send it to him direct? Oh, dear, no. The bird must come to the twig without the least suspicion that,it has been specially limed for him. If necessary, we must thrust it under his nose so that he can't help seeing it. Hush, he is coming back.." Surely enough, Beard was returning along the path, pushing his lantern from side to side. Gilbert held his breath as Beard came to the papers. The lantern flashed fully on the blue lines. With a hoarse Beard dropped to his knees and examined the papers by the light of the lantern. He sobbed with delight and pressed the papers to his lips.

"Saved!" he said—"saved, saved 1 The good luck of it, the splendid fortune! And only to think how very near I was to being on the rocks!" (To be Continued).